If someone IS just that into you, and you're not reciprocating, it is an overwhelm, not a bowling over.
THE ANTIDATE
Moral Ap(p)titude
We spend a hell of a lot of time and effort updating our digital doppelgangers.
Maybe we need to spend a bit more time downloading some apps for our internal wellbeing instead?
Truth, Justice, And The Occasionally Un-American Way
I think we have, in the main, forgotten that a cape - that stalwart accessory of the superhero upper echelons - is inevitably just a bedsheet dyed a cool colour, and possibly bedazzled with a few funky sequins. The true cape? That's inside our hearts, our souls, and our hind-brain's knowledge of what is right, or wrong, behaviour for self and society.
AN ENIGMA WRAPPED IN A FURBALL
Squishy got off the phone and she started yelling at me, some words I didn't understand about using the interwebs for education, not random surfing, and not being allowed on it unsupervised at any time, did I understand.
I did not understand, because for a start, why would I use the interwebs for surfing? I don't like water, I'm a cat.
SCAR TISSUE
I write because I want to put my thoughts out of my head, and onto the equivalent of the pages of a commonplace book. It is catharsis, not crowd-pleasing, and that's when I knew what I wanted to say.
Shattering The Glass Slipper
Obviously in order to get what you want in life, you have to be wearing kick-ass shoes. It's as simple as that. Imelda Marcos may not have been the nicest person in the world, but the Iron Butterfly knew what she wanted and how to get it - amazing footware. All one thousand and sixty pairs. Nicole Kidman - ditches Tom for Roast Lamb with Mum, and immediately gets her mojo back, because she's out of the ballet flats and into the stilettos before you can say 'Tom Cruise is really, really weird'.
I often think the reason Napoleon divorced Josephine wasn't because she couldn't produce an heir - it was down to the fact that she wore higher heels than he did. Short man syndrome got the better of him (and possibly envy over her shoes).
Perhaps, Perhaps, Perhaps
Despite looking really, really fabbo in breeches, Lizzy realises that Darcy is in fact very arsey and isn't likely to change his spots anytime soon. She decides marriage would be a trap and a half and instead scandalises Longbourn by going on the stage and becoming the best known actress of her time. Mrs Bennet loses the plot entirely and simultaneously the power of speech (yay). Darcy marries Caroline Bingley and is miserable but his family is happy so bad luck.
Jane and Bingley can still get married because they're both drips.
The Scrabble Test
What's The Scrabble Test? It's simple.
Think about the person you're with presently (if you are with someone - if not, think about the person you feel you'd like to be with). Now imagine the future. You're seventy or eighty years old. Believe me, it's on its way - admittedly for some of us it's closer than for others. It's after dinner on a Saturday night. You're sitting on the sofa with them, vino in hand (hey, eighty doesn't have to be boring!)
Now.
It's time to...
Whip out the Scrabble. And whip their butts.
Is This The World That We Live In?
On both sides of the world, people who were going about their daily lives were suddenly forced into fear and horror and blood and pain and death - because someone else decided to make a nightmare become reality.
What I would truly like to understand is this; what is the reasoning behind these people doing what they do? Because what scares me the most is that there may be no reason beyond a wish to make themselves heard - not out of a cry for their cause, or their suffering, but simply because they are hollow people.
The Last Piece Of The Puzzle
You know what I mean. You sift through the pieces, trying to work out which ones fit. Sometimes you are absolutely certain that you have built an entire corner, or a piece of wall, or even managed to construct that mythical blue sky; but then you try to shove and twist two pieces together that aren't meant to be, and the whole puzzle needs to go back in the box...
And you start over again.
If you are playing by the rules, you put the pieces in upside down and go in blind.
On Her Majesty's Very Secret Service
“In politics, stupidity is not a handicap.”
Dearest Your Majesty,
Tony here. But of course, you knew that, because we've been corresponding freely for months now. I wish I had realised years ago what a fan you were of Lifesaving, I would've thought to mention it when we first met. Then I wouldn't have been so surprised when you friend requested me in the Catholic Speedo Connection closed group on Facebook. How we have laughed about your e-mail address - 'fakeliz@jgillard.com.au'; although I do think some people might get the wrong idea, even though you have reassured me a number of times that this is the cleverness of it, and only true nobility like myself would know that it is really you. 'You are like King Arthur in the Sword in the Stone, you scabrous little hound' you say, which is one of your funny little names for me, isn't it, Ma'am?
Ma'am, I've got a bit of a problem. I'm copping some serious stick from the public and even that turncoat fat man in a thin suit Hockey. As for Bolt...
John Howard rang me up the other day and called me names, Ma'am! He said I was a bloody disgrace to the Party and to take my big ears and big mouth and bugger off home.
What would he know. He can't even bowl a cricket ball. Even Kevin Rudd has been sniggering at me.
As for that Turnbull character, I feel like one of the Fathers at school is about to give me six of the best, and not in a good way.
I don't understand it, Ma'am. You told me that if I appointed The Duke of Edinburgh as a Knight of Australia, everyone would love me! 'Do it Tone' you said. 'Do it for Australia. Do it for your country. The country will be grateful'. Well, they aren't. They aren't grateful at all. They want me to take it off him! They don't think he deserves it. Of course he does. I mean, you told me about all the good things he's done, like the time he played cards against Le Chiffre and won so that a bomb didn't go off, and that other time when he stopped a master villain at your country estate, SkyBalmoral, in Scotland.
And now you're not answering my e-mails...
I feel like a little bit of sunshine has gone out of my life. Especially since Margaret isn't talking to me because I told her you don't like to share. Maybe Prince Phillip feels the same way, and has put his foot down.
I bet he would've made a good Jesuit.
And Now, Representing Australia...
“He’d been given an assignment to write about teen beauty pageants [...], which he’d accepted because he enjoyed blood sports as much as the next person.”
I was yabbering to a friend the other day about nothing (as one does) and she mentioned that she had a courtesy car whilst hers was being repaired. It happened to be a Camry. 'Courtesy Camry', I said, 'sounds like a beauty pageant contestant'.
'Representing Kentucky... Courtesy Camry. She likes guns, long walks on the beach, and er, guns.'
We sniggered and moved on. But then, me being me, I started thinking about this more. Imagine car brands as Miss World, or Miss Universe, or Miss Giant Tomato entrants. Who would take out the grand praaaaaaaize? Which bumper bar would be willing to shave off a few centimetres to look best in the automobile equivalent of the bathing suit round? Would Detroit play dirty to beat out the international interlopers? And could Down Under have any hope of winning when we showed up with a ute dressed up in a bizarre combination of ugg boots, eucalyptus leaves and a Sydney Harbour Bridge-shaped scratch and sniff hanging from the rear-view mirror?
Let's see, shall we?
THE IMBECILIC AUTOMOBILIC MISS WORLD PAGEANT. Brought to you by a sense of mounting hysteria, and the remnants of migraine painkillers.
Representing South Korea: Kia Cadenza.
Kia is a lovely girl, shy, self-effacing and well aware that some of the more - shall we say, elitist contestants see her as a waste of space. She's used to this; after all, she lives next door to a lunatic. Unlike her older cousins from the Hyundai dynasty, at least the US contingency are capable of pronouncing her first name. Don't underestimate this contestant. She may not have the label status of the bourgeoisie, but Kia is headed for the top. May be a Final 5 contender, unless said lunatic decides to hack her emails so that the other contestants know what she's been saying behind their backs.
Representing Italy: Maserati Ghibli
Firstly, if you try to say her name as 'jibbly', she may run you over, and quite rightly. Secondly - well, who are we kidding. She's a Maserati, and she's named after a desert wind. Vrrrrooom. Final 5. (NB: Judges may have received a car in the decision making process).
Representing the USA - I mean Italy - I mean - oh who knows, it's Chrysler/FIAT/something: Jeep Cherokee
Using a Native American name doesn't make you Pocahontas. It makes you a really annoying SUV with bad, bad TV ads. She's a Jeep. WELL, OBVIOUSLY. No painting the colours of the wind, Ms Cherokee. I'm afraid there will be tears, and not of the pin the tiara on the bouffant kind.
Representing Germany: Porsche 918 Spyder
She's a hybrid, she is worth more than my house, and she's wunderschön. $900,000 of runway worthy wunderschön-ness. If only Germany hadn't produced Sebastian Vettel, (let alone allowed the unspeakable Austrian in), they might be considered to be a model for the world. (Again, judges may have been influenced slightly by the offer of Porsche shaped packages. Just saying).
Representing Japan: Honda Civic
She's reliable, efficient, and understated. She doesn't do anything wrong, and is nice to the other contestants.
She is also guilty of the most car park misdemeanours, mid-road illegal turns, tailgates and bad driving manoeuvres on the face of the planet.
Sums up a lot of things really.
Representing the UK: Aston Martin Vanquish
I have a funny feeling in my tummy and have to lie down for a while.
Representing Australia: uh...
We all know it.
And finally... representing humanity: Tesla Model S
She's beautiful. She's functional. She makes perfect sense. She speaks with clarity, and conviction, and for the future. She represents the unselfish spirit of a man who gave away his genius and his ideas for free, because he believed in humankind.
Last I saw, the other contestants were ramming her to bits out in the car park.
I think Maserati may have called in the lads from Ferrari.
She won't be winning Miss Congeniality any time soon.
